


Night Shift

by CabinOnAShore



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Detective C. C. Tinsley, Gas station at 3am aesthetic, M/M, Mild Gore, Murder, Murder Mystery, On the Night Shift, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, The gas station is in the desert bc it's my fic and I get to make the rules, Tinsley works as the cashier, Undercover, Unnamed background characters - Freeform, for obvious reasons, gas stations are liminal places but think 80's-90's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabinOnAShore/pseuds/CabinOnAShore
Summary: Gas stations were thought of as either a horrifying place or a mystical one, Tinsley merely thought of it as a workplace. He had the night shift, sundown til sun up. It was quiet most of the time which he spent working on cases in between bouts of rare sleep.In the day he worked as a private detective, hired for petty cases, watching whose beds husbands fall into each night, finding missing dogs. He hoped for the day he could solve The Big One. The one that would get his name in the papers outside of town. Get his ass out of this town.
Relationships: Holly Horsley & C.C. Tinsley, Ricky Goldsworth & Banjo McClintock, Ricky Goldsworth & C.C. Tinsley, Ricky Goldsworth & Francesca Norris, Ricky Goldsworth/C. C. Tinsley
Comments: 40
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

There were all sorts that came to gas stations. It didn't matter if you were a convicted murderer or a poster child soccer mom, it didn't even matter if you had a car, everyone came to gas stations. The women avoided coming inside, the men didn't notice. The teenagers always stole something, Tinsley pretended not to notice. 

There was one camera in the whole station, a shoddy thing that could barely tell table from wall pointed at the counter. It wouldn't have made a difference but it was there. 

Gas stations were thought of as either a horrifying place or a mystical one, Tinsley merely thought of it as a workplace. He had the night shift, sundown til sun up. It was quiet most of the time which he spent working on cases in between bouts of rare sleep. 

In the day he worked as a private detective, hired for petty cases, watching whose beds husbands fall into each night, finding missing dogs. He hoped for the day he could solve The Big One. The one that would get his name in the papers outside of town. Get his ass out of this town.

-

When the bell chimed he didn't need to look up from the newspapers to know who came in. 

"Greetings, Cooper," Tinsley said, much too chipper for the darkness shrouding the world out past the florescent and neon lights of the gas station. He said nothing in return at first, just stumbled straight to the shelves stocked with alcohol at the back of the store. 

"Shut it, Tins," he snapped once his sweaty palms met the cool glass bottles lining the shelves. They rattled precariously.

"Don't you think it's time to head back to the wife?" Tinsley folded the newspaper he held in hands, glancing at the clock displaying the time as just past twelve in bright red numbers. "It's a new day! Yesterday is just a world away."

"I don't have a wife to head back to now Tinsley. You're just a cashier, not my friend-" he slammed a bottle back onto the shelf "-and I don't care to hear none about your shitty cases." 

"Oh," Tinsley deflated slightly, "I don't suppose you still have your daughter do you?"

"No!" D.B. Cooper shouted, he threw the bottle he held to the ground and whirled around. "No! I don't have anything! Yesterday took my world away! Now shut the fuck up and do your damn job."

Tinsley kept his mouth shut, only saying the total and a muttered apology. D.B. huffed and left with enough alcohol to drown in. Tinsley got up from his seat, fetched the broom and mop, and set on cleaning up the spilled drink. 

-

Tinsley sat in his office with papers strewn around him, on the desk, the floor, the wall. He was going through a bit of a dry patch in terms of cases but a murder in the town over piqued his interest. He had set about gathering as much information as possible, everything from the clothes on the victim's back to her favorite color in third grade. 

He could feel frustration building up when an insistent pounding came upon his front door. He gladly took the distraction and practically sprinted through his house to the door. He tugged it open with a greeting, forcing his breathing to even out as the woman watched him. She wore dark clothes, a dress and a jacket with a hat that obscured her face from view.

"Tinsley?" she asked. Her voice was smooth, free of any accent. Her gloved hands were clasped in front of her and a sliver of dark skin was visible between the end of the gloves and sleeves.

"That's the name," Tinsley grinned. He stepped back, holding the door open, "would you like a drink?" He thought he had some whisky left over, not that he favored it.

"No, I have a case for you." Tinsley perked up at this. "I assume you are already working on it so I'll keep this quick, drop it. Take whatever files you have now and burn them. You won't like what happens when you get close to the truth."

"What happens when I get close to the truth?"

"The next detective to pick up this case will be going over your files. Leave it, Tinsley." Her dark eyes flashed dangerously when they met his. He took in a shaky breath and she left as quickly as she had arrived with a billow of dark fabric. 

He watched her walk into the distance, considered going after her, and decided against it. With her outfit, she certainly didn't need any help in drawing unwanted attention. 

Tinsley scanned the street and saw no one else except for a man smoking outside of a restaurant. He looked back after the woman but she had vanished. He went back inside and back to work.

-

Tinsley woke up to shouting.

He peeled his face off of the counter and blinked his vision clear. His vision was immediately blocked with the business end of a pistol. 

"Oh," he hadn't planned on this. 

D.B. Cooper towered over him, his hand surprisingly steady for the tremors running through the rest of him. His brow was damp with sweat. 

"I told you, Tinsley. I told you. My world got taken away," his voice was thick with tears which were now making their way down his face. He sniffed and roughly wiped at it with his free hand.

"You don't have to do this, Cooper," Tinsley spoke. He kept his voice level as if trying to calm a frightened animal. "Put the gun down, let's talk this out."

"You don't understand, Tinsley. I ain't got nothing. It's all gone now. I gotta do this to get it back," he released the safety on the gun. Tinsley felt his breath catch in his throat. 

"Please, Dan. You really don't want to do this, do you?" Tinsley raised his hands slowly, he felt his whole body quivering. 

"They told me they wou-" Cooper was cut off by his own head getting blown off his shoulders. Tinsley flinched, hands instinctively covering his face. He emerged from behind them to D.B. Cooper's crumpled body at his feet and his brains splattered around the counter. 

Tinsley felt a sob escape him, tears finally flowed freely and his breath came out in ragged gasps. The man who held the still smoking gun stepped towards Tinsley. Tinsley flinched, the man left.

He sat in the chair until the first rays of light came over the horizon. Until Holly came in and saw the scene with Tinsley covered in blood at the center of it. Until the sirens came and the paramedics removed the body and eventually removed Tinsley.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Ricky has appeared.

Tinsley was told to stay home for the next couple of days. Wait until he could stomach even looking at a gas station again. He didn't.

He couldn't handle staying inside, alone with his thoughts and the case he had been told to abandon. He considered it. Considered if it was really worth it. He knew it was. He needed to try to bring peace of mind to the family of the victim. Just as he needed to bring peace of mind to himself.

That's why when the sun disappeared over the horizon and Holly Horsely began to clean up for the night, Tinsley was there to take over. She didn't seem surprised, just resigned. She never seemed much of anything though. Just a stone statue in the background. She was always as grey as one.

"You'll call if you need anything, right?" She handed him the keys and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He didn't mind that her hand felt just as freezing as a marble statue in the winter.

"Of course," Tinsley gave her his brightest grin, he hoped it didn't seem too fake. She frowned and he dropped it for a bit more sincerity. "I will."

"You're a good man, Tinsley. I'd hate to lose you," she said with as much emotion as was possible for her. To anyone else it might not have been a lot but to Tinsley it was almost overwhelming.

"Thank you, and you too." He pulled her into a hug which she stiffly accepted. She pulled away once he relaxed the smallest fraction of an amount and hurried off into the quickly spreading night.

Tinsley worked alone for the first hour, doing everything he could to keep himself occupied. He was a shark, if he stopped moving, he would drown. When the clock struck seven, the bell above the door chimed sweetly. 

Tinsley turned from mopping the hall to the bathrooms to greet the newcomer. He looked as if he planned on robbing the place, his dark hair a mess and layered in a gradience of clothing, black jacket atop a grey hoodie atop a white shirt. He stuffed his hands into the pockets and made a beeline for Tinsley.

"Hello, sir, would you like help with anything?" Tinsley smiled at the man, it was shaky. The man stopped in front of him, when he had to crane his head to meet his gaze, Tinsley felt himself tense. He remembered the chiwawas that had chased him all the way to school as a child. The trauma had taught a valuable lesson to him; never underestimate anything.

"My name's Ricky Goldsworth. Do you know who I am?" His voice was slow and smooth like he didn't care if he was wasting the other's time, he knew they would wait. Tinsley wasn't sure if it was more like molasses or whiskey.

Tinsley cleared his throat, "can't say that I have. I come across a lot of people in this job, sir." Tinsley was certain he would remember someone like Ricky, a dart frog. One with beauty equivalent to its fatality.

"I'm not asking if you recall us meeting, I'm asking if you know who I am." 

"I'm afraid I don't. Should I?" Tinsley was enamored just as he was petrified by the man in front of him. He seemed to be made of the shadows that encompassed the night outside, all dark eyes, dark hair, dark skin, and dark clothes. 

"Be afraid?" The corner of the man's lips twitched into what could constitute a smile. "That depends."

"On what?" Fear trickled down Tinsley's spine, heavy drops of rain that could've been snow on a colder day.

"That's all you, baby." The twitch bloomed into a full grin, revealing sharp white teeth. Tinsley wasn't sure if the action was a thinly veiled threat or if the man was feral enough to make it seem so. "Contrary to what you may think, I do have a purpose in coming here apart from idle chat and refueling. That murder case? I want you to take it."

"What the hell is up with that case? I get someone telling me to drop it one day and the next someone else is telling me to pick it back up again. Did you do it? Are you trying to run me off?" 

Ricky's face nearly matched the confusion Tinsley felt inside. He received what was as much as a threat as shoving a gun against his head and the next night that's exactly what happens. Ricky's expression fell into something darker.

"Who told you to drop it?" He stepped closer to Tinsley, his eyes narrowed, and his voice sharper than any knife. "Well? Who told you?"

"I'm- I didn't really get a good look at her face. She wore all black and a big hat, the brim was big." Tinsley stumbled over his words, stopping and starting and repeating things that had already been said. 

"You're useless," Ricky huffed and shook his head. "I have an idea of who it is, fortunately for you. If there's an investigation into Cooper's case, I'm certain they'll rule you out immediately for incompetence." 

"Excuse me for being a bit shaken after I get a customer's brains blown onto me. I don't even know who did it. Oh god, the cops are going to have to tell them everything." The anger Tinsley felt at Ricky was replaced with nausea. 

He knew the cops would have to investigate but he never actually thought about it. Never thought about what it was like for witnesses and surviving victims having to recall every second to ten different people. 

"If you're going to vomit, try to get it into something disposable. The stench will stick if you get it on the floor." Ricky watched Tinsley double over and heave. Nothing came up, he had an empty stomach. Ricky eyed the trashcan. 

"Shut the fuck up or get out. I'm done. After you leave, I'm going to sit in that chair til morning then go home and sleep. If any of you wake me up I'll call the cops." Tinsley straightened up, his face was still pale but he no longer felt ready to pass out. Ricky laughed, the bastard looked as if Tinsley had told him a hilarious joke.

"You're not going to do anything with the cops. They'll start digging a little deeper if they find that not just one person wants you dead. We all know you're not as clean as you claim, Detective." 

"How- what?" Tinsley's blood was running cold. He hadn't told a soul about what he had done. Not any living ones. 

"After a while, your reaction to getting brains on your shirt changes from horror to irritation. I feel you're well on your way to irritation, Detective." Ricky grinned, he truly was too beautiful to be so corrupt. 

"Get the fuck out of my sight. I never want to see you around here again," Tinsley barely kept his voice from shaking. With anger or fear, he wasn't quite sure.

"I doubt that. Give me a call if you need some more brains on your shirt." Ricky tucked a slip of paper into the front pocket of Tinsley's pants. "Or to get out of it," Ricky added with a wink. Tinsley watched the man leave, his jaw clenched and his body tense. 

"I promise I won't."

"I promise you will."

The door shut with a chime.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only dead on the inside. Also did Ryan get murked in the garage? Wtf was up w that story?

It was only until after Tinsley was sure Ricky had disappeared into the desert night that he finally moved. He immediately went straight for the phone and dialed Holly's number. She picked up on the third ring.

"Holly speaking."

"Holly, I need you to come in. Please."

"Tinsley? What happened?" 

"Just a weird customer. I think I just need to go back home for a bit, I'm sorry." Tinsley clutched the phone handle in a white knuckle grip if only to keep his hand from trembling.

"Yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can. Just stay safe." Holly hung up on him, presumably to go to the car. Tinsley placed the phone back on the hook and fell back into his chair.

Holly arrived five minutes later. She lived ten minutes away. 

Tinsley smiled at her when she came in and she returned it just as gratefully. 

"Who was the customer?" She asked him.

"I'm not sure. I think he was just some rando passing through." Tinsley resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck when his mind, all too gleefully, supplied the image of the customer in question. 

"Oh, you're okay right? Nothing happened?" 

"No, no nothing like that. He must've been off his head or something. Just freaked me out." That wasn't quite a lie. "I'll probably go straight home, try to relax." That, however, was.

"Okay, you should get some sleep. I'll take over from here and see if anyone is available to take your shift tonight."

"Okay, thank you. I'm sorry for making you come all the way here, I'll make it up to you. Promise." 

"Don't worry about it. It'll be fine." Holly squeezed his shoulder, he bent down slightly so she could reach easier, and grinned. 

Tinsley left with the promise to go home. He didn't. He didn't go to the next town over because of the woman telling him not to. He didn't go to the next town over for the man telling him to. He went to the next town over for his own curiosity and nothing else. Or, at least, that's what he told himself.

He left on the only road out of town, the dark sky stretching places further than he would ever dream of reaching, a smattering of stars already visible. The moon was just above the horizon having freshly risen. 

The headlights illuminated the occasional cactus and eyes out in the distant sands. They didn't illuminate the car he passed on his way to the next town over. The car that pulled out and followed behind him at a distant pace.

-

Tinsley pulled up to the house the victim had lived, and died, in. It was nothing particularly spectacular. A house that looked like every other in the neighborhood save for the bright yellow police tape surrounding it. 

There was no one else around, all the houses on the street had their lights out and no other cars were parked along the curb as his was. The street was dark, a few streetlights scattered about, proving little pools of light.

Tinsley disregarded the signs dissuading trespassing and approached the front door. When he half-heartedly wiggled the knob, the door came open with a soft squeak of the hinges. He huffed a surprised laugh and entered with one more glance at the street tossed over his shoulder. 

He closed the door behind him before he retrieved his flashlight from his pocket and flicked it on. It illuminated a basic living room, a couch in front of the window adjacent to the door with a tv and coffee table opposite. There was an entryway into the kitchen and a hall that looked to lead into the bedrooms. It was a basic suburban house. Tinsley did not quite want to call it a home.

The body was reportedly found in the kitchen so that was where Tinsley went. There was tape outlining where the body had been and signs posted by possible evidence. There was a knife set scattered on the ground as if it had been knocked over. One of the knives was missing. 

There seemed to not be much else on the scene. Tinsley wandered through the two bedrooms and the one bathroom and found nothing to help him. He finally called it done nearly an hour later.

When he left the house, there was a second car parked on the road, and a man standing beside his. He was obscured by the shadows, barely discernible as anything more than just a figure. He straightened when he saw Tinsley who in turn reached for a gun that wasn't there. Hasn't been there for years. 

Tinsley approached cautiously, slowly, afraid to spook either the man or himself. When he was six feet away, Tinsley finally spoke.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Perhaps I should be the one asking that question," his voice was slick with a southern accent, "just what do you think you're doing in that house? Don't you know it's an active crime scene?"

"I'm well aware. I was investigating. I'm a Detective." Tinsley kept his answers clipped and brief, avoiding giving away too much.

"You were trespassing is what you were doing. I should have you arrested right now, that's a federal offense to tamper with a crime scene like you were." Tinsley put his hands up even though the man was currently unarmed. 

"Please don't," was all Tinsley could think to say. The man broke out into a guffaw of laughter, slapping his knees when he doubled over. Tinsley let out a shaky laugh, quite unsure of where this was going.

"Alright, boy," the man started when he straightened back up, "I'll let you off with a warning this time. Don't let me catch you pulling shit like that again, am I clear?"

"Crystal clear, sir," Tinsley let an easy smile break out over his features. The man stepped forward so that his face which was obscured in shadow was partially visible under a chief of police cap. He had a grin below a large moustache and dark curls of hair escaped from the sides of the cap.

"Take care now, I've heard there's a murderer about."

"I'll certainly try to."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if my math is weird or wrong. I'm in pre-calc not horology.

Tinsley returned home to the strong smell of coffee and an unfortunately familiar man sitting, more sprawled out, in his chair.

"Welcome back, Tinsley. How was work?"

"I had a customer that had no idea of what boundaries are or when to shut the hell up. He was also the only customer I had today," Tinsley spoke as bitterly as the coffee Ricky held in his hands. It smelled heavenly. It pissed Tinsley off.

"Oh really? Who was it?" Ricky crossed his legs and leaned forward like they were ladies gossiping about their coworkers at lunch. Tinsley's eyes were drawn to his legs as he shifted and the tight, yet seemingly expensive, fabric that covered them. Tinsley dragged his eyes up towards Ricky's, purposely avoiding staring at his arms in the suit that was most likely perfectly tailored specifically to him.

"Feel free to take a guess. Don't feel too bad if you don't get it at first." Tinsley wandered into the kitchen, sniffing out any remnants of the coffee if only to have an excuse to look away from Ricky.

"Looking for the coffee? I brought some of my own if you don't mind, imported directly from Jamaica. And I just took the last of it-"

"Inconsiderate."

"-if you want it, you'll have to get what's left in my cup," Ricky continued to speak through Tinsley's interruption unfazed but his mouth slid into a smirk. 

"I'm quite certain I can do without it, thank you." Tinsley opened the fridge and reached for one of the bottles of beer he only had on rare occasions. He preferred whisky but he didn't want to let his guard down too much around the man.

"It's not poison I can promise you." Ricky took a sip as if it was meant to help his case. "It's delicious, I really meant for you to try some but you took forever to get home." 

Tinsley retracted his hand before it even touched the bottle and shut the refrigerator door. He watched Ricky for any sign of malicious intent but he only saw a flash of sincerity covered by his cool demeanor and a cocky smirk. He was still leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands folded in front of him like in prayer. 

Tinsley strode towards the man, not fast enough to be desperate but not slow enough to be casual. He knew he could be intimidating when he wanted to but Ricky showed no sign of fear, it was as if he didn't even know what the word meant.

"Bastard," Tinsley hissed before he seized the cup off the table and drained it in one gulp. The coffee was strong, not even a grain of sugar added to it. It left an aftertaste in his mouth which was not quite unpleasant. The coffee was still hot, not scalding, and its warmth spread throughout his body. 

It was the best damn coffee he's had in a while, not that he would ever admit to that. Especially not to the man seated in front of him with a sly grin that twists his features in the most beautiful way.

"Good?" Ricky asked, like he wasn't certain it was fitting to a certain expectation.

"Tastes like shit. I hope you didn't ruin my coffee maker with those beans. She's built for burnt ones."

Ricky straightened up with a grin Tinsley wasn't sure he wanted to slap or kiss away. He decided to do neither and fled to the kitchen, cup in hand.

"I replaced your coffee with mine. I don't want to ever catch you with that dirt in here ever again."

"You sound like a jealous lover," Tinsley remarked as he put the cup under the faucet to rinse it out.

"I can be." Ricky's voice was deadly serious, as if he was sincerely offering. Tinsley's face burned and the cup almost slipped from his grasp.

"No thank you," Tinsley choked out, "I'm fine with us remaining - whatever we are." He dried the cup with a cloth and replaced it in the cupboard with all the others. He checked his coffee container and, sure enough, the familiar dark grounds were replaced with slightly reddish ones. 

"Unfortunate, I was hoping to expand upon our relationship. Are you sure? I hear that I have quite the expertise in that area."

Tinsley thought of Ricky with a woman. Revulsion curled in his stomach. He let his mind wander to Ricky with a man but when that man became Tinsley, he banished the thought. 

"Quite so. Now did you have a reason for breaking into my home and making coffee apart from propositioning me?" Tinsley's voice came out sharp and agitated, more than he meant it to be. He emerged from the kitchen to lean on the wall and watch Ricky, as far as he could be without leaving the room.

"Yes, I did. I was wondering if your trip to the house helped you pick a side. Are you going to take the case?" Ricky laid his arms on the armrests of the chair and leaned back into it, an open yet intimidating gesture.

"Well, it has, actually. I've decided to pick my own side and I'm going to take the case purely for my own curiosities. How long does it take to brew that coffee?" 

"It took about ten minutes, why?" Ricky tilted his head, his arms slipped towards his lap. 

"Just wanted to make sure it wasn't a different amount of time than normal. When did you get here?" 

"I arrived thirty minutes before you. Where are you going with this, Detective?" 

"No, what time? I need the precise time, to the minute, Ricky."

"I don't keep track of such things, Tinsley."

"I know men like you, I know you do. Now tell me the time of your arrival." 

"10:42 PM," Ricky glared at him. "What are you up to, Detective?"

"I arrived here at 11:10, it's 11:28 now. You showed up at the gas station at seven, left at 7:16. I left at 7:24. I got to the victim's house at 8:39, started driving home at 9:56. I know my coffee maker takes sixteen minutes on a good day so how is it that the coffee is still fresh and the maker still warm if you followed me without me seeing you? You sent someone after me and I have a great suspicion of who it might be."

"I have eyes everywhere, Detective." Ricky said simply. He shook out his arm to pull the sleeve of his suit back before he checked the gold watch fastened around his wrist. "It seems it's time for me to go. As always, it's been a pleasure chatting with you."

Tinsley silently let Ricky tug his sleeve back down as he stood. The shorter man paused beside Tinsley on his way out, met his eyes with a grin.

"You should deduce more often, Detective, I find it quite arousing." Tinsley's face flamed and Ricky let himself out. Tinsley was quite sure the man would be the death of him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My phone's at 6% and I still have homework to do but it's fine. (Ricky might not be)

Tinsley was putting on his coat to go out for the morning when the phone rang. Holly was on the other end of the line. She sounded worried and just told him to come to work. Tinsley could barely get a word in before she hung up the phone.

Tinsley arrived at the gas station twenty minutes later to see two police cars parked outside of it. He pulled up beside them before getting out of his car. There didn't seem to be any officers remaining outside so he went into the station.

Three figures stood around the counter, all staring at the small screen that projected what the camera saw. They were presumably watching the tapes from the incident. Tinsley knew they would gain no insight from it. Though it could mark him off the list of suspects. 

"Do you know who shot him?" One of the two officers asked. No one had even looked at Tinsley so he assumed he was not the one being spoken to. At least until the larger one turned towards him with an impatient scowl. "Well?"

"No, uh, I don't really remember what he looked like. I was a little preoccupied with the whole covered in blood thing." Tinsley never much liked cops. As a detective he found some cooperation with law enforcement was necessary but mainly tried to avoid them at all costs. Too many of them were the 'shoot first, ask questions later' type. 

"Right well why don't you take a look at this tape and see if that sparks your memory instead of standing there and snarking." Tinsley didn't quite feel like rewatching that night but the glint in the cop's eyes showed that he didn't have much choice in the matter.

He watched the events that had been playing nonstop in his mind during nights when sleep continued to evade him. This time it was through a grainy screen and seen from high on the wall. He saw Cooper stand over him, watched himself rouse from sleep, and watched half of Cooper's face get blown off. The recording was paused when the mysterious assailant's face was finally visible.

"Do you recognize him?" The cop asked. Tinsley couldn't make out much of the man's face on the screen but he could recognize the dangerous beauty like the glint of sunlight off a knife before it slits your throat. The dangerous beauty of no man other than Ricky Goldsworth.

"No. Never seen that man before in my life," Tinsley lied easily. 

-

The officers left after questioning Tinsley and Holly for some time more. Tinsley felt like a bundle of nerves, just waiting until he could be alone again. The larger cop seemed to pick up on his restless energy but never directly addressed it, much to Tinsley's relief. 

Holly seemed exhausted enough so Tinsley offered to work for the morning shift considering that she had to take over for his shift the previous night.

"Are you sure?" Holly asked.

"Positively. You need rest. I'm pretty sure you're not a robot that lives here as much as you want to convince everyone that's the case." Tinsley grew genuinely worried at times for Holly's wellbeing, she worked like a machine until she ran into the ground then started digging. 

"Don't burn the place down. Be careful." Holly moved towards the door as she spoke. 

"You as well, Holly. Take a rest." Tinsley waved her off and watched her leave.

-

Ricky entered the station an hour later. The sun was nearing its peak in the sky and bathed him in its warm golden light. 

"Why'd you kill him?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Tinsley," Ricky practically purred as he approached the counter which Tinsley stood behind like a shield.

"D.B. Cooper. You shot him. Why?"

"He was holding a gun to your head, what else was I to do? Oh and you're welcome by the way. You never thank me, has your mother taught you no manners?"

"My mother taught me not to deal with a mu-" _hypocrite,_ his thoughts hissed at him. He started again and hoped Ricky wouldn't notice the slip-up. "How am I to thank you for that? 'Oh thank you, Ricky, I appreciate you getting a man's brain matter all over me.'" 

"That would do. Or a 'hey, Ricky, thanks for saving my life. Anyway I can make it up to you?' but you could always give a nonverbal show of your thanks."

"Sure let me just get some flowers."

"Not quite what I had in mind." Ricky grinned at Tinsley, a flash of perfect white teeth. 

"I'm certain you have a lot in mind."

"Oh, I do. If you want to find out what some of them are, you can. Many of them include you tied to that chair but we can work our way there if you want." 

"Are you like this with everyone you meet?" Tinsley asked. What Ricky was insinuating was dangerous, he had known men who had been killed for less.

"Would you like me to?"

"No," Tinsley answered honestly. "How do you know you won't get-" Tinsley left the word unspoken but it hung heavy in the air. _Hurt._ It felt like too much responsibility to be said aloud, to admit any sort of feeling apart from resentment to the man in front of him.

"I know we don't have mutual trust in our relationship but I understand that we do have some shared _interests."_ Tinsley figured Ricky would have some clue to his past relationships if he knew of his other pastimes but the words struck a chord deep inside him. Whether born of fear or excitement, adrenaline worked its way into his veins.

"Did you have any purpose in coming here apart from just teasing me?" Tinsley diverted from the sensitive topic at hand to one that could potentially be even worse but that just seemed to be how his life goes.

"Oh you think I'm a tease?" Ricky stepped towards Tinsley in a way that was most likely meant to be sultry and certainly succeeded in that remark. 

"I think you're infuriating."

"I could say the same of you." At once, Ricky's demeanor changed from flirtatious to serious, he straightened to his full (albeit still a bit short) height and his face closed off to cool indifference. "No, I didn't come here just to see your pretty face again. I saw you spoke with the cops. How'd that go?"

"I didn't tell them anything, Ricky. Though I could. I have a name and a face, it should be enough." 

"If you wanted me arrested, you would've had it done a long time ago." 

"You're right. I'd rather kill you myself." 

"Don't act so dangerous, Detective." Ricky's eyes and grin betrayed a wild glee. "Unless you want me to have you on that counter you cower behind."

"I'll wipe that smug grin off your face one day, I swear it." 

"Today may not be that day." 

"Bastard," Tinsley spat.

"Now's not the time for pet names, baby." Ricky still had the damn shit eating grin on his face like he was having the time of his life. He probably was.

"Tell me what you wanted to say and get out." Tinsley would have emerged from behind the counter and thrown Ricky out by the scruff of his neck if only there wasn't a situation being disguised by said counter.

"I wanted to apologise actually. For Cooper. He wasn't meant to be involved. I'm still trying to figure out why he was." 

The thing about Ricky Goldsworth, as Tinsley was coming to find out, is that he can put up so many fronts, it can become difficult to determine which is actually Ricky. He can switch tactics faster than a light. He was full of facets and mysteries which become more intriguing the deeper one digs. Tinsley feels he had dug so deep he could no longer see the sun. And yet, there was still a light.

"I'm trying to figure that out too." 

Ricky nodded solemnly and moved towards the door to leave. Tinsley noticed that his steps barely made a sound on the linoleum floor, a task he normally struggled with himself. Ricky paused when he reached the door and turned back to face Tinsley. 

"Why don't you come with me, Tinsley? You wouldn't have to hide any longer."

Ricky was a man of many faces, and this one terrified Tinsley the most. 

"I'd rather hide."

The answer didn't seem to come as a surprise. He looked resigned to the fact that Tinsley was afraid. Too afraid to find it in himself to fight. Perhaps that's why he wanted to be a detective, to fight for those after it was already too late.

Ricky left with a chime of the bell above the door. As Tinsley watched him retreat into the summer day, he couldn't help but feel he had missed out something. Something better than this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ordered Watcher merch!

Tinsley didn't see Ricky for the rest of the day, not when he returned home and not when he resumed work. He supposed he should feel relieved to come into an empty home but he only felt an empty pit in his stomach. The pit remained throughout the next day when there was still no sight of Ricky. The emptiness only seemed to grow as the days passed with no sight of dark hair or scent of rich coffee until the days blurred into a week.

Tinsley found his life returning to what it was before the case that had changed his life and almost ended it. The case that had brought him Ricky Goldsworth. He almost hated how easily his life slid into monotonous routine with the man gone. 

While Tinsley's routine had returned to what had passed as normal for the past few years of his life, nothing else had. People were skittish coming into the gas station. Holly was overly empathetic towards Tinsley. Even his appetite and sleep regime had all but vanished completely.

A week had passed since Ricky had disappeared with an opportunity that never left Tinsley's mind since it was first offered. When bouts of rare sleep came to him or he let his mind wander, his dreams were filled with what could've happened if he had agreed. If he left with Ricky.

The dreams each proceeded slightly differently each time but all ended the same, with Ricky's hands on him. Alone in his bed at night, he thought of Ricky's propositions, what he would do if he were there with Tinsley. In those moments, his hands were no longer his own, instead belonging to a man made of shadows and secrets.

-

It was morning and Tinsley had just made a cup of the coffee Ricky had bestowed upon him. The warmth of the dark liquid filled his veins in place of blood. He wasn't quite sure when he had begun drinking so much coffee, he knew he much prefered tea when he was younger. Perhaps it was an acquired taste.

Tinsley was moving into the living room, steaming cup in hand, when a figure reclining in his chair caught his eye. The cup slipped from his grasp and crashed into the ground in an almost comical display if it wasn't for the hot coffee that splashed up onto Tinsley.

"Ow, shit, fuck. You stay right there you son of a bitch, don't you dare move." Tinsley pointed an accusing finger at the figure in his chair who responded with a familiar shit eating grin. The flutter in his chest brought by the sight of it made him dizzy so he retreated into the kitchen to fetch some towels to clean up.

"Are you okay, Tinsley?" Ricky asked from his spot in Tinsley's chair. Tinsley hated he had begun to think of it as Ricky's spot considering this was only the second time he had sat there.

"No thanks to you, fucking bastard." Tinsley washed his hands in the sink and grabbed a towel off of the counter next to it.

"You're not even going to say hello?" Ricky watched Tinsley mop up the spilled coffee with the towel.

"I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment." Tinsley tossed the towel into the sink and began the process of picking up the pieces of shattered ceramic.

"Tinsley, be careful. Stop, you'll hurt yourself. Tinsley-" Ricky shot up from the chair and crossed the room to where Tinsley knelt, blood already dripped from his hand onto the remaining pieces. Ricky grabbed Tinsley's arm and pulled him to his feet before placing the shards held in Tinsley's hands into his own. He placed them in the trash and led Tinsley to the sink.

"Did you mean it?" Tinsley asked as Ricky ran his hands under the tap. "We can leave together?" 

"Not quite yet. We're no Romeo and Juliet, my love." Ricky turned off the water and held Tinsley's hands in his own, "I do want you to solve that mystery." 

"Why? What's so important about it?" 

"I can't tell you that, Tins. Not right now." Ricky placed a kiss against Tinsley's palm, just a light press of lips against his skin but it still made his knees weak and eyes flutter.

"If not now then when?" Tinsley brought his head down into the crook of Ricky's neck, resting it there while his arms wrapped around the other man.

"Preferably never." Tinsley shut his eyes and pulled Ricky impossibly closer, he smelled of coffee and something more metallic, like copper.

"How am I supposed to figure anything out if you don't tell me anything?" Tinsley asked. He could see a knife on the counter behind Ricky. He could grab it.

"I don't know." Ricky seemed much too small to be so dangerous, to be composed of secrets whispered into shadows.

"Then get out," Tinsley growled into Ricky's ear. He made no move to release him though. He made no move towards the knife. He made no move at all, preferring to leave it to Ricky.

Ricky didn't move either, seemingly deliberating his options. He must've decided on one for when he moved again it was to pull away from Tinsley. He didn't allow himself to feel any more hurt than just a pang as his arms slipped away from Ricky's body. Before his hand could completely drop away though, Ricky grabbed it.

"Would it be enough to tell you who the woman who spoke to you was?" Ricky asked. Tinsley hadn't expected this, it was certainly more than enough.

"It depends," Tinsley fought to keep his face impassive although he was excited at the prospect of new information.

"She's a spy, we call her the Isdal Woman or Francesca Norris. She's not harmless but now she shouldn't be a problem. She thought I did the murder, I didn't."

"Where is she now?" 

"Gone." Ricky was obviously hiding something but Tinsley didn't press further into the issue, possibly much like he would do with a knife to Ricky's throat.

"What about Cooper? How does he fit into this? Did you find out?"

"I said I'd tell you about Fran, not Cooper. Though I do have some theories." 

"I thought I was the detective?" 

Ricky grinned up at Tinsley. They dropped their hands and instead returned them around each other in another embrace. Tinsley found it strange to already be so attached to the man but he felt he didn't have much choice in the matter. He did have the choice to grab the knife.

"Make some coffee and I'll tell you," Ricky ordered and pulled away from Tinsley once more. 

"Bossy," Tinsley complained but set out upon preparing another brew. Ricky was halfway in Tinsley's fridge to rifle through all of the, scarce, continents. 

"Shut it, unless you want to make dinner?" Ricky's voice picked up the dangerous edge to it but the threat was somewhat diluted with the sight of Ricky's arms full of food. Tinsley's stomach growled at the mention of dinner, which he had skipped for the past few days.

While Tinsley prepared the coffee, the sound and smell of cooking filled the air around him. Ricky moved through the kitchen like he belonged there, Tinsley felt that in a different life, maybe he did. Ricky didn't say what he was making although it smelled heavenly. As soon as Tinsley started the coffee maker, Ricky pushed him out of the kitchen.

"Are you kicking me out of my own kitchen?" Tinsley asked incredulously despite the smile plastered on his face. 

"I want it to be a surprise. It won't be too long, I promise."

Tinsley settled into one of the chairs while Ricky returned to work. The sound of cooking, the sound of life, continued on for minutes more. It felt overwhelmingly domestic to Tinsley. 

Sudden awareness of the entire situation flooded through Tinsley. What the fuck was he doing? What was he _thinking?_ Did he believe he could integrate a murderer into his life unscathed? 

The sounds stopped. Ricky emerged from the kitchen with two steaming bowls. 

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine, thank you. You didn't have to do this," Tinsley assured him as he took his bowl. Ricky seemed unconvinced.

"I wanted to," Ricky smiled at him, it was too soft. Tinsley felt as if he were going to vomit. 

Ricky placed his own bowl down on the table before he disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve their coffees. Tinsley put his own bowl down as well, his hands were shaking. The air felt too hot, he couldn't breathe. He got up from the chair. His head hurt, the sound of cups clattering was too loud. He needed air.

He ran out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write more when I'm procrastinating late at night.

Tinsley didn't take his car, instead setting off down the road on foot. He felt bare without his coat which still lay draped over his counter from when he had thrown it there the previous night. 

It wasn't long before he heard the door swing back open behind him and Ricky call out for him.

"Tinsley? Where are you going?" Ricky ran down the path after him. Tinsley did not stop nor give any sign of having heard him.

Ricky caught up with him and forced him to a halt with a hand too soft for what it had wielded. Tinsley turned to face the other man. Ricky was concerned, unnerving in its sincerity.

"Tins, what happened? Are you okay?"

"No," Tinsley began, "I'm not."

"Why?" Ricky slipped his hand into Tinsley's own. Tinsley dropped it. Ricky looked hurt.

"I don't know what I'll become if I stay with you but I know I don't want it. I don't want to return to who I was."

Ricky considered this for a moment. He made a choice in that moment, possibly the worst he had ever made but certainly not the worst he ever will. 

"Come with me," Ricky spoke. His voice was dark, certainly darker than it's been with Tinsley before. He took Tinsley's hand again, his grip too strong to slip out of without causing a scene, and started down the road in the opposite direction Tinsley had been heading. 

They went to Ricky's car. It was an older model but in pristine condition, not even a scratch on the black paint. Ricky guided Tinsley to the passenger side and opened the door expectantly. Feeling not much choice in the matter, Tinsley got in. Ricky closed the door and entered through the other side. 

"Where are we going?" Tinsley asked. He doubted he would get a straightforward answer from Ricky. He found he was right as Ricky pulled out onto the road.

"You'll see soon."

They drove away from the town, into the desert sands beyond. After some time, seventeen minutes according to Tinsley's watch, they passed the gas station and continued driving. 

The sun was nearing its peak in the sky when Ricky slowed down and pulled off of the road. There was nothing other than sands and scrubs for miles around. He thought he could see mountains in the distance. Ricky got out and instructed Tinsley to do the same. 

They left the car behind to trek across the desert on foot. The shifting sand and constant concern for potential hazards distracted Tinsley enough that he almost ran into Ricky when he finally stopped. They stood by what appeared to be a wooden trapdoor, sand had been blown over it by the wind. 

Ricky knelt down and pulled at a padlock Tinsley had not noticed before. The lock fell away easily and Ricky hefted the door open. The door led to a small but dark room in which a horrible stench emanated from, much like rotting flesh. Tinsley was confused until he heard a groaning from within. 

"Ricky, what the fuck? Do you have a man down there?" 

"Not just any man," Ricky grinned and pulled out a small flashlight from his pocket, flicking it on in a deft movement. The light illuminated the room which contained a large man tied to a chair next to a table on which a head rested. "The chief of your town's police department." 

"Oh my god," Tinsley turned away from the door and kneeled on the ground. He was going to be sick. Ricky continued to grin like he was showing Tinsley a model car collection rather than a man he had trapped in a room in the middle of the desert. 

"Don't tell me this isn't what you wanted, Tinsley. I saw you consider that knife. When you walk into a room you can think of a hundred different ways to kill everyone in there." Ricky crouched so he was level with Tinsley. "Isn't that right?"

"I don't want to. Take me back home. I want to go home." Tinsley heard his own voice, weak and shaky. He sounded like a child but he couldn't find it in him to care.

"I will, Tinsley. Don't worry." Ricky regarded Tinsley, his grin fell into a frown. "Don't cry, baby."

"Don't call me baby." Tinsley sniffed, the initial panic had passed, leaving him numb to it all.

Ricky pulled out a pocket knife and handed it to Tinsley. It had a pearl handle and polished silver metal. It was expensive and beautiful.

"I can't go back to who I was before this town," Tinsley said in barely more than a whisper. He opened the knife, studied the blade sharpened to a razor's edge.

"Our pasts are an unchangeable part of us, Tinsley. You just have to choose if you want to embrace it or lock it away. You can feel it calling you, can't you? The thrum of blood in veins just begging to be spilled."

"You're a psychopath," Tinsley spat out.

"And are you all that different from me?"

"I like to believe so."

"Then how is it that you look so beautiful with that knife, Detective?" Ricky purred into Tinsley's ear. His hand drifted over the knuckles of Tinsley's hand tight around the handle of the knife.

"What is it you dream of?" Ricky continued, "what plagued your dreams every night after that fateful one? Is it the scent of blood freshly spilled?"

"It is none of your concern," Tinsley muttered out, albeit a bit weakly.

"I know it feels as if your bloodlust is haunting you but in reality it is calling you, Detective. Why not give in? What holds you back?"

"My morals." Tinsley said. He was unsure if it was true. If they even existed anymore.

"Did your morals come into play when you-"

"Stop." Tinsley didn't want to remember that night. The sight, the sounds, the scent. It all blended into a terrible memory. He couldn't help but feel Ricky's words held some truth. It was a truth he was not willing to admit.

"What you did to him is not simply forgettable. It follows you like a shadow. You cannot just leave it behind."

"I know."

"Make a choice, Detective. But know now that continuing down this road of secrets and disguises holds no treasures greater than the other road. Either way. Someone must die tonight." 

"What if it's me?"

"Then I'll burn this town to the ground."

"If it's you?"

"Then it's your choice."

"If it's him?"

"Then we can be together."

Tinsley regarded the knife in his hands. In a poem, the knife would be a metaphor. For life, for death, for mercy, for vengeance. Alas, this was not a poem. It was a blade, and he was meant to use it. 

Ricky watched him with none of the usual mirth or glee present in his eyes, not even sorrow or concern. He watched Tinsley as a father would a child. No, it was something else. He watched Tinsley as one would watch a character provided a gun and a choice. Intrigued yet detached, allowing whatever would happen to happen.

Tinsley adjusted his grip on the knife and stood. He took a step towards the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Negative character development, babey!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback babey! I recommend listening to You Killed Me On The Moon and For The Departed while reading this chapter (preferably in that order)

Tinsley laid on the hood of his car. He held someone in his arms, the most important person in the world to him. In that moment, they were safe. Their secrets could lie amongst the stars. Hidden touches, whispered words, stolen kisses. 

They were young, considered adults by society but naive as children are wont to be. They had not yet seen the scars that came with their love. They knew it was dangerous, of course, but they did not know why. 

The moon watched them, two silent lovers in the night. If she could, she would warn them of the danger that would come for them that night. The threat that lurked in the sands beyond. But so she could not speak, so she watched and waited for the blood that would inevitably be spilt. 

"If we stay out here much longer, we'll spend the night on your car's hood." Tinsley's heart spoke into his neck, his voice was quiet, barely discernible from his soft breaths. He doubted that he actually cared about returning home.

"And that's a bad thing?" Tinsley asked.

"It's cold," his lover responded. 

"That just means you'll have to get closer to me, baby." Tinsley grinned which was returned with an eye roll. He conceded and sat up, slipping off the side of the hood to stand. He stretched his gangly limbs out before he moved to the driver's side and got in. 

When they were both seated and secured, Tinsley took his lover's hand in his before pulling out and onto the road. Their hands only separated once the road grew more crowded and people could potentially see. 

They went to Tinsley's home since it was closest and they drove his car anyway. Inside they were greeted by a familiar orange ball of fur. Tinsley ushered the cat back into the living room so as to not aggravate his lover's allergies.

"Do you think we could go to bed now?" Tinsley's lover asked.

"Are you that tired?" It wasn't that late, just pushing one in the morning.

"I wasn't thinking of sleeping," his lover grinned. 

"Oh," was all Tinsley managed before he pushed his lover into the bedroom with kisses scattered across his jaw and neck. 

-

They laid in the aftermath, a similar position to when they were on the hood of Tinsley's car. They had replaced their underwear but nothing else, sheets tangled with legs tangled with each other. They were almost indiscernible from each other, so close that limbs blended together.

Tinsley felt himself slip closer to sleep as the minutes passed. He almost missed the sound of the door rattling. 

"Just a moment, dear. I hear someone at the door." Tinsley detangled himself from his lover and grabbed a shirt off the floor to slip on on his way to the door. He could see the doorknob being shaken by whoever stood outside.

"Be careful," his lover warned. Now standing in the entryway to the bedroom, a shirt hastily pulled on as well. 

Tinsley glanced through the window to see who the hell would be at their doorstep at two in the morning. He didn't recognize the two large men who stood outside. Tinsley took a steading breath before swinging open the door.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Tinsley put on his best irritated scowl and voice. 

"That him?" The one man asked the other.

"Nah, the shorter one." The other responded. 

"Who are you? What are you talking about?" Tinsley pulled the door closer to the body, instinctively shielded his lover from the eyes of the two men. 

"Get out of the way," the first man spoke. He wasn't taller than Tinsley but he was intimidating enough for any sane person. Tinsley couldn't quite be considered sane.

"No." Tinsley drew himself up from the normal slouch he put on for other people. He could be intimidating, too.

The men shared a glance before they surged forward, one towards the door and the other at Tinsley. The door flew open and slammed into the wall, Tinsley followed suit to the floor. The men stepped past him and continued inside.

"No!" Tinsley shouted, he grabbed the ankle of the closest man. He barely paid Tinsley a glance before slamming the heel of his boot into Tinsley's face. Blood and tears welled up and trickled down his face.

Through the cloud of his tears, he could see the two men approach his lover. He put up a fight, he was strong. They were stronger. 

Tinsley managed it to his feet just as his lover was swept off his. He could hear the crack of his head hitting the floor. In a rush of rage and adrenaline, Tinsley ran forward and tackled one of the men. His momentum took both of them to the ground on which he began to rain fists upon the man's face. 

The other man, upon seeing his partner being beaten to a pulp by one extremely pissed off Tinsley, pulled a knife and held it to his lover's throat. 

"Get off of him or he dies," the man threatened. He pushed the knife further against his lover's throat and fear flashed through his dark eyes. Tinsley stilled, the man below him coughed and shoved him off. The men rose with Tinsley's lover between them. 

As Tinsley moved away from them, his hand brushed against something cool and metal. The man's knife. It must've fallen out when Tinsley tackled him. He took it in his hand and rose as well.

"I mean it," the man pushed the knife deeper and blood beaded around the edge. Tinsley's lover screwed his eyes shut but tears still slipped down his cheeks.

"Get away from him," Tinsley growled. The men were unimpressed but still wary. As they should be. Tinsley flipped open the pocket knife and lunged at the man holding his lover. The knife that was held against his throat fell to the ground as did Tinsley and the man. 

Tinsley wrestled with the man on the ground, he couldn't get an opening to actually use the knife but it caused scratches on their skin which began to bleed freely as they rolled on the ground. Tinsley changed his tactic from slicing to stabbing. He drove the knife into the man's chest and blood spurted from his mouth when he coughed. 

Tinsley repeated the action, again and again he drove the blade into the man's torso until he finally stilled. When he rose, panting and painted with blood, the man and his lover were gone.

"Ryan!" Tinsley called for him but it was futile, they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist babeyy!  
> Btw I hope you guys know that this is pure unfiltered, raw brain sludge. Any suggestions for improvement are greatly appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Election and school stress sucks. 
> 
> There's smut in this chapter (i apologise in advance)

Tinsley took a step, in both the past and the present it was towards a man who would not live to see the next day's sun. Then, he had the vengeance of a thousand angels. Now, he had nothing. He was not sure which made him more dangerous.

He dropped into the room with a heavy thump, reminiscent of how he dropped off of the last step of his house. There was a similar fear that filled the air when he met the man's eyes. He was not currently covered in blood as he had been but he certainly held the same ferocity.

The man in front of him now was already perfectly where he wanted, even came tied up, but in the past he had to drive to the site where he would commit the same acts as he was about to today. He had driven to the place the night had started. Where he had held Ryan under the stars, he would hold a blade instead and a man with his arms twisted behind his back.

The difference between then and now was how he could see the blood that flowed from the wounds he created. The first cut, to the left cheek, blossomed and rather than be shadowed by the night, it glowed with the sun.

"Ryan," Tinsley called out, now as he had then. Ryan had been shy to approach but Ricky was a different person altogether despite the very same body they shared. He wondered why it had taken him so long to finally grasp the connection, perhaps some sort of denial. Denial that his Ryan could ever be such a man as Ricky. 

"Tinsley?" Ricky asked as Ryan had in the past, only much less concerned. Ricky took a step forward when Ryan had taken a step back.

"Don't you want to watch?" Tinsley dragged the knife down the man's shoulder. They screamed the same, shared pain. Tinsley didn't believe in ghosts but he felt he could see whispers of the past echoing in that moment. A scared Ryan approaching right alongside an entranced Ricky.

"What are you going to do to him?" Ryan had asked out of fear. Ricky asked out of pure curiosity.

"I'm going to carve out his heart and let him see it beat," Tinsley purred. The knife dragged across the man's chest, catching on the threads of his shirt. 

He stopped it just an inch above where the man's heart would be located and dug it into his skin, enough to draw blood. Through the passage of time, the reactions remained the same, the indecisiveness between thrashing and screaming to be freed or tensing and drawing in a sharp breath. They never moved.

Tinsley pushed at the knife, driving it further into flesh and blood. Now they would get louder, push against the ropes that bind them. Fear of accidental injury always left at this point.

He carved around the heart until a circle was formed. It was almost like carving a pumpkin. If the pumpkin bled and screamed.

He switched the blade to his other hand and used his now free hand to bury into the man's chest. It was warm and wet and almost disgusting. He kept pushing until his fingers wrapped around a pulsating lump of flesh. He tightened his grip and pulled.

The heart ripped free with a spray of blood and squelch of flesh. The men didn't last long, screaming fading into softer whimpers then nothing at all. 

When Ryan had witnessed this for the first time, he turned around and vomited. Now Ricky watched intently, morbid curiosity drawing him closer. Tinsley shoved the man's heart into his own mouth. Perhaps they would connect this case to the one he had done all those years ago.

"Shane," Ricky whispered just as Ryan did when everything was said and done. Perhaps there was a bit more awe in Ricky's voice.

"It's Tinsley," he corrected him. 

"Come here and kiss me," Ricky ordered. It was a direct contrast to how Ryan had reacted. How Ryan had ran away from only to run back to him in the form of Ricky Goldsworth.

Tinsley dragged himself out of the hole acting as a room and to his feet beside Ricky. He drew the smaller man against him and brought their lips together. He hadn't kissed him since that night years ago, he had almost forgotten how intoxicating it was.

Ricky broke away from the kiss to focus his attention on Tinsley's neck. It wasn't until he felt Ricky's tongue glide across his skin that he remembered the blood splattered upon him.

"There's blood on my clothes," Tinsley reminded Ricky. He pressed a soft, chaste kiss to the indentation of where his neck met shoulder.

"Then take them off," Ricky growled before returning to biting and sucking at Tinsley's neck in familiar ways he hadn't felt in years. With the way he was feeling, he would probably heed Ricky's advice.

"Let's get in the car first. We can't have people see us fucking next to a freshly murdered body," Tinsley laughed.

"Maybe we can," Ricky countered with a nip to Tinsley's ear. He did pull away to retreat towards the car though, much to Tinsley's relief. He wiped the blade of the knife clean with his shirt before folding it shut and pocketing it as he followed after Ricky.

Ricky was impatient. He pushed Tinsley into the backseat and barely gave him a moment to adjust before crawling between his legs. 

"Christ, it's like you haven't fucked in years," Tinsley groaned as Ricky pushed up his shirt and kissed at the revealed skin of his stomach. Ricky pulled away with a frown.

"I haven't," he said.

"Oh, sorry. Uh, me either. No one else seemed the same as you, I suppose." Tinsley could feel himself blushing furiously. 

"I usually kill them before they can even get their hands below my belt," Ricky remarked conversationally. Tinsley knew he had nothing to fear from him but he still gulped. His fear seemed to do nothing to ease the heat curling low in his stomach, but it did everything to cause it.

"Ryan," Tinsley choked out. He needed the other man's hands on his body, now.

"If I have to call you Tinsley, you have to call me Ricky," Ricky gently reminded him. He not so gently dug his nails into Tinsley's skin as they travelled over his stomach.

"Ricky, you son of a bitch." 

"What?" Ricky asked innocently before licking a stripe just above Tinsley's navel. His shirt was pushed up to his armpits as Ricky travelled up his abdomen so Tinsley pulled it off and flung it to the side.

"Clothes, off. Now," Tinsley ordered. Ricky grinned.

"Now who's impatient?" He teased but pulled off the offending shirt and returned to Tinsley with a deep kiss. Ricky intentionally made his movements slow and lazy, forcing Tinsley to match his pace. His hands trailed down his chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Ricky's thumb caught on one of Tinsley's nipples and he remembered one of the main weaknesses of the other man. Tinsley brought his hands from Ricky's sides and to his nipples. His fingers traced circles around and pinched the sensitive flesh.

Ricky froze at the touch. Tinsley almost thought that he had been mistaken when Ricky suddenly groaned. It was deep and throaty and went straight to Tinsley's dick.

"Fuck, Tinsley," he rasped.

"Will you?" Tinsley asked, as coy as Ricky had been himself not two minutes ago. 

Rather than respond verbally, Ricky grinded his hips down against Tinsley's. His own hips lifted in response, rolled against Ricky's own hardened cock. The friction was delicious and a low moan escaped him.

"Make that sound again," Ricky whispered, staring almost reverently at Tinsley. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes turned black. Tinsley flushed and shut his mouth, shaking his head in response. Ricky kissed him quickly before moving his lips to brush against his ear. "You'll make that sound again, if I have to rip it out of you."

"You can try," Tinsley challenged. Ricky smirked before sitting up. 

"Move further back," Ricky instructed him. Tinsley rushed to obey immediately, shifting back until he was pressed against the other door. Ricky followed him, remaining in between his legs.

When Tinsley settled again, Ricky's hands worked on unbuckling Tinsley's belt and pulled his pants down along with his underwear. Tinsley's swollen cock rested obscenely on his stomach. 

Ricky's hand wrapped around the base and slid up. When he reached the head, his thumb smeared the precome that already leaked out the tip and used it to ease his movement. Tinsley muffled his sounds with a fist while his other hand grasped at the seat. Ricky worked Tinsley's dick with a few more horrendously slow pumps before he leaned forward and mouthed at the tip.

He took more of him in painfully slow, tasting and exploring familiar terrain. Tinsley's breath caught in his throat as Ricky's tongue swirled around him, encasing him in a warmth he had missed. The slow drag of lips over sensitive skin brought Tinsley dangerously close to the edge.

"Ricky," he warned. Ricky hummed and took him deeper into his throat. Tinsley's hand shot out and curled into Ricky's hair. His whole body was tense from trying to not fuck Ricky's mouth. Ricky twisted his wrist and gave a particularly skillful bob of his head and Tinsley was spilling into his mouth with a moan that he was unable to stifle.

Ricky drew off of Tinsley's softening dick with a pop. He grinned at Tinsley's disheveled appearance.

"I love when you make that sound," he purred. "You did so good, baby."

"Let me do you, too," Tinsley offered. He reached for Ricky but he pulled away.

"We can deal with that later. We shouldn't hang around the body too long." Ricky didn't even try hiding the grin that tugged at his lips. Tinsley leaned forward and kissed it away. He was much too boneless to do much beyond that.

Ricky abandoned Tinsley in the backseat for the driver's seat. Tinsley pulled his pants back up and crawled into the passenger seat just as Ricky started the car. Tinsley buckled his seatbelt and fell asleep not long after Ricky began driving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if it's extremely awkward. I'm a very awkward asexual


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in a while. We're finally getting somewhere now though

Tinsley didn't wake until Ricky pulled up to his home and laid a hand on his shoulder. He blinked bleary eyes and smiled at the soft gaze Ricky held for him. He elected to ignore the dry blood smattered across his body.

"Have a nice nap, Tinsley?"

"Shut it," Tinsley replied, the words sharp but his voice anything but. Ricky's grin grew and his hand retreated with a small squeeze. 

They went inside his home and locked the car behind them. Ricky, surprisingly, went to the kitchen rather than the bedroom where Tinsley had been expecting him to head. 

Ricky brought out the coffee he had bestowed upon Tinsley all that time ago and filled the pot with water. Tinsley was content to just watch him work, admire the changes in a one familiar body. Ricky was not Ryan. Ryan had died that fateful night he left Tinsley. Ricky was different. Stronger. 

Ricky let the maker heat up the water and he crossed the kitchen to be by Tinsley's side. He wrapped a hand around the back of Tinsley's head to guide him into a kiss. It was not much more than a light press of lips against lips and when Tinsley pushed for more, Ricky pulled away to return to the coffee maker.

"Are you teasing me?" Tinsley asked, a smile pulled at his lips but he stamped it down before Ricky could see.

"I'm making coffee, if that's what you mean." Tinsley would've let the subject drop with a scoff and roll of his eyes if Ricky's eyes didn't drag over his body in a truly sinful way. Like there was something he was trying to savour. 

"Ricky," Tinsley started but stopped. He wasn't sure of the words he wanted to follow. If he wanted Ricky to work him into the counter pressed into his back or if he wanted him to just make the coffee without being, well, Ricky.

There was something about Ricky. Something so beautiful but frustrating that drew Tinsley in. That brought him in front of Ricky to corner him against the counter. He left room for Ricky to escape. To pull away or leave. He did neither but instead initiated another kiss. It was deeper than the previous, but, yet again, was released when Tinsley wished to deepen it. He huffed a laugh and kissed Ricky's neck.

"What are you trying to do, Ricky?" Tinsley asked, words murmured in his ear, lips brushing against his skin with each enunciation. 

"I'm trying to make coffee, Detective," Ricky purred, his mouth just as close to Tinsley's own ear. 

"Are you okay?" Tinsley asked. He let sincerity and concern for Ricky seep into his voice. Ricky scoffed like the proposition alone was ridiculous. 

"I'm okay, Tinsley," Ricky kissed Tinsley again and let him deepen it fractionally before pulling away again. "I'm okay when I'm with you." 

Tinsley couldn't help himself after the pure openness in Ricky's face. He bent down to kiss Ricky but kept it light, soft, loving. Ricky kissed him back and Tinsley could've cried from the well of emotions the action brought with it.

"I missed you," Tinsley whispered like if he spoke any louder he would be shouting. His hands cupped Ricky's face, his thumbs brushed over his cheeks.

"Do you think we'll see each other in hell?"

"If we see each other in hell then it's not hell." Tinsley punctuated his point with a kiss to Ricky's lips. It was not gentle, it was needy and desperate. Ricky returned it with just as much fevour and began to rid Tinsley of his clothing.

They ended up collapsing in Tinsley's bed, a naked tangle of limbs. Needy noises and touches, reexploring every inch of the other's body. 

Ricky pinned Tinsley to the mattress and straddled him, his hips ground down in a slow rhythm. Tinsley pushed up into the feeling, chasing more of it. His hand flew to their cocks trapped between their bodies. He used their leaking precome to ease the glide of his hand as he picked up a quick pace. It was an embarrassingly short amount of time until he was spilling into his hand, Ricky following him soon after.

Ricky collapsed into a sticky heap next to Tinsley. He pulled the sheets up over their bodies to protect them from having to leave this small moment of bliss.

"I should shower," Tinsley remarked. He whispered, afraid to speak too loud, destroy the illusion of peace.

"No. Just stay here with me," Ricky wrapped his arms around Tinsley's waist and buried his head into his chest. Tinsley brought Ricky closer to him, pressed their bodies flush together. 

-

After coffee that was just coffee and a shower that was just a shower, they lounged on Tinsley's couch. The radio was turned on and low, rock songs filling the comfortable silence.

Ricky was asleep, curled against Tinsley's chest. Tinsley himself felt ready to drop off as well but he forced himself awake just to take in the sight that could possibly be his last.

Tinsley could feel himself beginning to nod off when someone began pounding on his door. Ricky startled awake and almost fell off the couch in his daze. He was able to get to his feet and moved towards the door but Tinsley stopped him.

They communicated through a few silent glances before Ricky allowed Tinsley to approach the door. They shared one more look before Tinsley pulled the door open.

There were two people standing outside, surprisingly familiar. One was the woman who had tried threatening him off the case, the other was the chief of police who had threatened him in general. Pretty much, it was the last two people he expected or wanted to see.

-

"Oh? What brings you here today?" Tinsley asked conversationally, leaning on the door frame and bringing the door closer to his body, subconsciously shielding Ricky from view.

"Don't be daft, we saw Ricky's car outside. Where is he?" The woman asked; demanded would be more accurate.

"Who's asking?" Tinsley tried to hide the tension that instantly returned to his body full force.

"Tell him it's Fran and Banjo." The woman, Fran, could hardly finish her sentence before the door was ripped from Tinsley's grip and a fuming Ricky stood where it had.

"The hell are you two doing here?" Ricky spat. The chief shrunk in on himself but Fran was unfazed by Ricky's temper.

"Could ask you the same thing, boss," she stated coolly. Ricky glowered at her and Tinsley could see the ways he was imagining killing her on the spot. Surprisingly, Ricky's anger faded and he stepped back.

"Get the hell inside before anyone sees," Ricky ordered. The two obeyed immediately. Ricky closed the door behind them.

-

"So you're telling me that you're Ricky's friends?" Tinsley ran a hand through his hair, then over his face. He was going to look sixty when he was only half that at this rate.

"You're telling us you're Ricky's long lost lover?" Fran, who Tinsley had learned was actually Francesca, shot back. Tinsley wasn't suprised she could keep up with Ricky's rapid fire but Banjo was a whole different case.

"I thought you were a cop?" Tinsley pointed at the not-actually-a-cop cop.

"Yeah, I lied." Banjo shrugged like impersonating a police officer was not a federal offense. 

"But that's illegal."

"No shit."

Tinsley could feel a laugh bubbling up inside of him, threatening to spill over. Ricky cast him a worried glance from where he stood by the entrance to the kitchen. Tinsley waved him off.

He could accuse everyone in the room of insanity and call the police on them. He should. But the only problem was, he was also in the room. 

Right now, his best plan was Ricky's plan. Ricky's plan which mainly comprised of setting the town of fire and leaving it in the dust while they hunted down whoever thought they could kill them.

First things first, Tinsley still had to figure out why the hell the case was so damn important. He thought he was getting a good idea though. He just had to question whoever the hell Dr. Fear was.


End file.
